


An Unusual Gift

by Mertens



Series: Sonnet 86 [3]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: All of my titles are so dull when I don’t steal them from books or poems or songs, F/M, Fluff, Formerly titled “The Gift”, Gen, I Tried, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 18:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18015647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertens/pseuds/Mertens
Summary: Erik struggles to find the perfect birthday gift for Christine, but luckily she has a suggestion for him.(A bit of a follow-up to “The Prize of All-Too-Precious You”, but can mostly be understood on its own too)





	An Unusual Gift

Erik pulled his hat brim a little lower, anxiously glancing at the others milling about on the sidewalks. It was so difficult to shop when it was so busy out, but he had no choice. 

He paused in front of a shop window. The jewelry that was displayed there was lovely, but he had gotten her a necklace last year. To buy her a similar gift two years in a row felt lazy, somehow. Flowers? No, he gave her flowers after every performance. She had shows quite often - a birthday came only once a year, and he wanted it to be special. 

He ducked into a store that sold women’s clothing. It was quiet in there, at least. The shopkeeper eyed him suspiciously but Erik pretended not to notice. There were very many dresses that looked very fine. He wandered the length of the store, looking at each style and color, some he knew Christine would like and some he knew she would hate - after seeing her nearly every day for so many years he felt he had a good idea of how she liked to dress. 

But was a dress too personal of a gift? If he bought her a dress, she’d surely wear it during one of their lessons. Would she think that he bought her a dress simply because he wanted to see her in it? 

The shopkeeper pretended to reorganize a shelf, casting a glare at Erik as though he were in the store to steal something - and Erik did suppose he looked rather suspicious with his hat and cape. The shopkeeper’s stares, along with Erik’s own anxious thoughts, proved to be too much and he quickly exited the store. 

Not a dress, then. A scarf? He frowned. She had told him, once, of some ridiculous story that had happened when she was younger. Apparently _the boy_ had run like an idiot into the sea to get her scarf back after the wind had blown it off. She still had that very same scarf. If he bought her one, she might think he was trying to compete with the boy - or worse, the gift might remind her of _him_ when she looked at it, and not of Erik. Was it so very terrible of him to want her to think of her Erik every now and then? 

He shoved his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders. He knew Christine better than he knew himself, and yet still he couldn’t think of what to get her. He had been trying for weeks to come up with the perfect gift, and now he was swiftly running out of time - the big day was tomorrow. 

He stopped in the bakery, eyes darting over the glass case that held cakes and pastries. He could feel the weight of all the combined stares from the other customers, and the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead underneath of the mask were growing increasingly uncomfortable. 

The cakes looked on the verge of going stale or else poorly constructed - he knew he could bake a better one, _had_ baked better cakes than that for her in years past, but the croissants looked good. He pointed out the ones he wanted to the baker - two filled with raspberry - glancing behind him at someone openly gawking at his mask as he waited for his pastries to be boxed up, and dropped a handful of money on the counter before taking the box, he left as swiftly as he could without waiting for his change. Any price was a fair one to pay to get out of there quicker, he thought. 

It was only once he was outside and able to think a little better that he realized with a sinking heart that his plan simply wouldn’t work - he had wanted the croissants as part of a special breakfast he’d make for her tomorrow morning, but since tomorrow was the start of rehearsals for the next show, she would be staying up above in her dormitory room instead of in Erik’s home. He could still give it to her, of course, but it wouldn’t be quite the same - _”happy birthday, Christine, here’s a pastry that I paid for with some pocket change I had lying around, I hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed that expensive necklace I got you last year”_.

Perhaps he had set the bar too high for himself in years past, he mused as he snuck into the Rue Scribe entrance to the opera house. She had been delighted with the music box he had made her for Christmas, and really where did one go after that? Or perhaps it was simply that he was overthinking the possible meaning behind any gift now after Valentine’s Day. She was a clever young woman, surely she had _guessed_ at his feelings before then, but now that he had laid his heart bare before her... and certainly she would be viewing any gift now in the light of that revelation. He couldn’t give something too intimate, lest she feel he was trying to wheedle her into a relationship, but at the same time he didn’t want to give her something impersonal. 

He sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. They would have their lesson in a mere dozen hours. He pouted about it for the rest of the evening, still wracking his brain for something she would enjoy and still coming up blank. 

The sun was just coming up as Christine entered her dressing room and stifled a yawn. She locked the door and looked expectantly at her mirror, and sure enough it rolled back and Erik stepped forward. She smiled brightly when she saw him. 

“Let’s begin with some warm ups, and then we’ll go right to what you’ll be performing this afternoon, how does that sound, my dear?” 

She nodded and began. 

As she ran through her warm up exercises she let her eyes travel over him. He wasn’t holding any sort of package or gift, and she didn’t think there was room in any of the pockets of his trousers or vest for one, either - but he _was_ a magician of sorts, so perhaps she was wrong. 

She finished her warm ups and began the songs from the new show. Erik would stop her every now and then and give corrections.

“That’s enough for today,” he informed her. “I’ll be watching from box five, of course, and we can talk about anything that comes up in today’s rehearsal during our lesson tomorrow.”

He paused, taking in her eager gaze and smiling softly before continuing. 

“And today is a very special day for another reason, isn’t it?”

She bit her lip, her smile growing wider. 

“It has been an honor to be your tutor for another year, Christine. I am so pleased with the singer you’ve become, and I am so proud of the young woman you are as well. Your future is so very bright, my dear, and I am truly blessed to be allowed to be a part of your life.”

She was blushing now, but she still maintained steady eye contact. 

“But you must forgive me, Christine - I’m afraid I don’t have a gift for you at the moment.”

“That’s alright, Erik,” she said kindly. 

“But I want to give you _something_ , though. Just name it - any gift, yours for the naming!” 

“Anything?” she raised an eyebrow. 

“Anything! Anything you want, my sweet - and I’ll get it for you. A pet monkey from the East, perhaps? A ten layer cake with extra frosting? A castle in the countryside?”

“Erik!” she laughed at his teasing, and he chuckled alongside her. 

“Tell me,” he said again. 

She glanced away, fiddling with her hands nervously. 

“I say what I want, and you’ll give it to me?” 

“Even if I have to go to the ends of the earth to retrieve it for you - _anything_.”

She looked down at her feet, still hesitating. Her birthday celebrations had been wonderful so far - Raoul had taken her out to dinner the previous night and given her flowers and a lovely hair barrette shaped like a peacock. Meg had given her a book and a small cake she had baked for her. There really wasn’t anything that she _needed_ that she should ask Erik for, but there was, however, something that she _wanted_ to ask for from him. Whether or not he’d give it to her remained to be seen. 

His face softened as he watched her struggle to name what she wanted. She clearly had something in mind but for some reason she didn’t want to tell him about it. 

“Christine,” he said gently. “It’s alright, you can tell me. Money is not an issue, sweet, you don’t have to worry if it’s something expensive. Don’t be afraid to ask-“

“A hug,” she suddenly blurted out, cutting him off. 

He stilled. 

“A hug from you,” she clarified, looking up at him again. 

He was silent. Had he heard her correctly? 

“You want- you want me to hug you?” his voice was faint and confused. 

She nodded slowly. 

He looked away, his eyes studying the wall behind her, his face blank. Silence settled over them like a cloud and she continued to pick at her nails nervously. 

Suddenly his eyes snapped back to her. 

“Oh, Christine,” he breathed, spreading his arms. “Come here.”

She quickly walked forward into his waiting arms. 

“Happy birthday, dearest.”

Of all the things he would have imagined her to ask for, a hug had never been one of them. It was such a simple thing, wasn’t it? She probably hugged her friends very often - quite likely that she hugged more people in one week that he had hugged in his entire lifetime. It probably didn’t seem like a very important thing to most people - after all, what was a simple embrace every now and then in a world already filled with so many easy, friendly touches? But Erik’s life had not been like most people’s lives, and the importance of the gesture was not lost on him - he had never played with friends as a child, never held hands with a sweetheart, never even hugged anyone beside Christine that one time previous. This hug was so very different from the one they had shared on Valentine’s Day, too. She wasn’t crying, for one, and that seemed to make all the difference in the world. How good it was, he thought, to feel her arms around him, to know that she was smiling as she rested her head on his chest. He fought the urge to nuzzle his face into her hair, to press soft kisses to her neck, to run his hands up and down her back - she had asked for a hug and nothing more, and it would not do to spoil that moment. 

She could barely stifle her happy sigh. The thought of hugging him had first occurred to her earlier that week and had returned with increasing frequency as her birthday grew closer - as each of her friends had given her some small trinket or token they had given her a hug as well, and of course once the thought popped up in her mind she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Erik had always given her such lovely and thoughtful gifts - but would he be the only one to refrain from hugging her this year? She knew he would, of course, unless she asked for one specifically, and then suddenly she had been presented with the opportunity to request that very thing. 

It was perfect, she thought as as she leaned into his embrace. He hadn’t bothered to wear gloves that morning and she could feel his cold hands, one on her shoulder and the other on her back, and the chill made her shiver. She took a deep breath and savored the moment, lingering that chaste embrace for longer than she had allowed any of her other friends to do. 

After a long moment she pulled back, and Erik let her go. Her cheeks were pink as she smiled up at him, and he immediately clasped his hands behind his back to hide how they were trembling. 

“Was that really all you wished for as your gift?” he asked curiously. 

“Yes, that’s all. Thank you, Erik - it was lovely.”

He very nearly replied with _”anytime, my dear”_ , but thought the better of it at the last minute - while he would _gladly_ give her any number of hugs whenever she asked, it somehow didn’t feel proper to _say so_ , so he merely nodded and smiled, a blush beginning to creep across his own face. 

“I-“ he hesitated - what should he say, or should he even say anything about it at all? The only gift she had wanted just so happened to also be gift to _him_ as well, but perhaps it was better to leave those sorts of things unsaid. “I will see you tomorrow, then. You know that I normally worry for your voice when you indulge in cakes and champagne during rehearsals and so close to shows, but seeing as how it _is_ your birthday, my only advice to you in this matter is that you _make it count_ \- only the finest of such delicacies for you tonight, nothing cheap.”

He waved a dismissive hand at the thought of cheap cake and rolled his eyes dramatically, causing Christine to giggle. 

“Well, if my Maestro insists,” she teased. 

He felt his heart stutter at her sweet smile and laughter, made all the more precious because he knew that _he_ was the cause of it. There could be no greater joy in life for him, he was certain of it. 

“Enjoy your day, Christine,” he bid her farewell and watched as she paused in the doorway and looked back one final time to smile at him before leaving for rehearsal.


End file.
